


Mornings and Making out

by Pens



Series: Gallavich Mornings [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Making Out, literally the point of this was to write snogging, sucking face in the kitchen u no u want it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:25:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2247300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pens/pseuds/Pens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey’s not so into routine, but with Ian, it’s not too bad.<br/>Especially if they get to do this most mornings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mornings and Making out

**Author's Note:**

> Literally just an excuse to write gallavich snogging. I don't even know with the first part, it's more so that there's actual substance of some sort, and not just a paragraph of tongue tennis.  
> Also experimenting with minimal dialogue.  
> ~enjoy?~

Mickey wakes up early that morning, which is unusual, but not too unpleasant. He doesn’t feel much like getting out of bed yet, so he spends the next ten minutes alternating between playing a game on his phone, sucking on his cigarette and watching Ian before he decides that it’s time for a shower.

Ian’s awake when he returns to their room in search of his work uniform; he’s sitting up in bed, stretching his arms up over his head, so probably not awake for long then. Mickey drops his towel and starts getting dressed, smirking at Ian’s appreciative “Hmmmm” from behind him. Mickey finishes buttoning up his shirt and heads out to the kitchen, looking over his shoulder before he leaves the room and satisfied when he sees Ian swallowing back his morning meds with a bottle of water.

Mickey never thought he’d be into routine, not this kind of routine anyway, but with Ian, it’s nice. _Because_ it’s with Ian, his life is far from the boring shit he used to imagine, and still does to a point, when he thinks of the word ‘routine’. Ian made routine interesting, because it was only really loosely ‘routine’, since Ian wasn’t really into it too much either. Their routine had a lot of holes that got filled in with God knows what; wake up on a weekday morning sometime before seven, have a shower (probably), get interrupted by Ian and mess around half way through (usually), make breakfast (whatever they felt like) and put the coffee pot on for Ian. Spend whatever time they had left doing whatever they felt like that they have time for, and head to work, get home somewhere between five and six (most days, depending on what time Ian got off work and if they’d do something afterwards), have a home dinner sometime between five and ten (occasionally) and get to bed before twelve (sometimes). It was irregular, and Mickey fucking loved it, he loved being able to do these things with _Ian_. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe that he was leading such a domestic life, with another man, in an apartment as close to North Side as they were. It was almost ridiculous.

Mickey started the coffee pot, got out the essentials for cereal and sat down at their tiny, round table. Ian came into the room moments after the coffee finished, showered and wearing the employee shirt for the supermarket he worked at on Mondays, Tuesdays and Saturdays (he worked at a bar Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays). Ian joined him at the table with a cup of coffee and his own bowl. Mickey looks up at Ian while they eat in silence, and he feels light all over. His morning so far has been nothing but domesticated, bright and happy, and it’s almost too far from home. So he starts up a conversation about Iggy and Tony and their plans to do a run that weekend and how they asked if Mickey, and maybe Ian, wanted to join them, and Ian was all too happy to join in, making efforts to swallow each time before responding.

Mickey dumps his bowl in the sink, goes back for Ian’s and does the same, puts the milk and cereal away and looks over at Ian, who’s watching him intently.

Mickey walks over to Ian and stands between his legs, he’s looking up at him with that stupid smile of his and its got Mickey feeling light all over again. Mickey just looks at him for a moment, expression blank, and Ian looks back, smirk still in place, eyes darting all over Mickey’s face. Mickey’s got another twenty minutes before he has to leave for work, so yeah, they’ve got the time, and Mickey just leans down and plants one on Ian’s stupid face. Ian grins against Mickey’s mouth for a moment before he starts kissing him back; it’s a regular kiss at first, regular pace and regular movements of lips, no tongue, no teeth just kissing, Mickey supports his weight with his hands on the back of Ian’s chair. And then Ian gets a little more into it, surging up against him, opening his mouth and then tongues are involved. He brings his hands up to grab at the collar of Mickey’s shirt and he pulls him harder against his mouth, hands trailing down along his sides to his hips, where he grips Mickey tight and pulls him down to straddle his lap. Mickey shuffles forward into a more comfortable position, lips still on Ian’s, he brings his hands from the back of the chair to Ian’s shoulders and sucks on his tongue, swallowing Ian’s moan. Ian bites his bottom lip and Mickey’s head feels light, there’s nothing but Ian. Ian on his tongue, Ian in his head, Ian in his heart, Ian with his hands on Mickey’s thighs, Ian, Ian, Ian, all there ever is is Ian, and Mickey almost hates him for it as much as he loves him for it. He brings his hands up to cradle the back of Ian’s neck and just, goes for it, kissing him impossibly harder, putting so much passion into it that it leaves them both breathless. And they don’t go further, they haven’t got that kind of time, so they just sit there and make out for what feels like forever until Mickey’s phone alarm goes off, signalling that he has to leave in five minutes (Living with Ian has required that he set an alarm, because it’s too frequent that one of them will start something not long before he has to leave, and after being half an hour late the first time and getting an earful from his boss, Mickey’s taken to having a week daily repeating alarm set up). Mickey gives Ian one last lingering kiss before getting up from Ian’s lap and straightening his clothes a little while Ian watches him, sipping his probably now cold coffee. Mickey gives him one last look before he leaves, points at Ian who grins up at him.

“To be continued.”


End file.
